It’s easy for the passing scene of everyday life to throw ordinary things in view that immediately, if our memories are long enough, remind us of many things that create sad smiles. “The Gypsy Hut” discussed last week still hasn’t been explained, but a look through local history recently may have contributed to that recollection. A passing and very small bit of naturalistic almanac advice happened to be about caring for strawberry vines. That also did just that a few days ago. Strawberries alone would have little effect, but growing them recalls a beloved house.

The house was old already sixty years ago and inexpensive from the start. However, previous owners clearly had the idea of making something of it. Across the middle of the backyard there was a drop of ground of maybe a foot. The garage was set on the higher ground, with the back end to about the drop, beyond which was a flower garden. A back walk was laid out to the lower part with stone steps down to it. Above the steps there was a trellis arch. A fish pond was there, too. It was fixed up except for four feet or so at the far end where the drop petered out.

It seemed reasonable to completely divide the yard as the lawn mower could be rolled down those steps. The lady of the house decided to build a strawberry hill, a graduated stack of rings of earth held together with bands on sides to increase the planting space. Plants were set on every level. There was a tiny crop in the first season, as the plants were getting settled. Then before the year ended, it was necessary to move. The new house, also well cared for, had a different beauty; but, it was the old one that most matched the spirit and was beloved.

Time continues without numbers, but somewhere back in ancient history someone had the sound idea to pre-count the number of days before a thing, like regular natural events, happened. It is easy enough to figure out. A count off from when it happens until it recurs does it. Put that down on something like some paper in series, and you have a calendar. That can be like a reminder that’s usable ascending order too. Give the time period an identity like a name or one of a series of numbers if there’s history in mind. Thus we get a 2015.

The numbering can start with any event – like the birth of a child, the start of a contract and the founding of an empire. Entire social systems are set up on such numbers. The 2015 simply is one in a series of numbers accepted for use by an assortment of people. Some use other numbers as well, sometimes in thousands more. The 2015 is personally noticed because that’s getting to the point that 21st century numbers are getting comfortable. Senior folk are accustomed to thinking in 19 something or the other numbers.

Grandma was born in the 1880’s and learned of dire and grand predictions in those times. A few decades later nuclear power made the dire predictions more likely and grandma looked at her grandchildren with thoughts of the end of the world by the year 2000. Some did make it into the 21st century, and it’s now clear the world did not end yet. It may in the not too distant future, but the general forecast time frames of those expectations of long ago have expired. And, trouble may be everywhere, but not as expected.

They say there are people there today. It is said there are more than a hundred and fifty thousand people there. There are statistics to back that up. Of course, the word “people” means people of all ages from newborn to near a hundred in years of age. While babies are certainly people, they are not people one seeks out for friendship or business. For human interaction, one has to figure off some of that figure given, not just babies but young children and some others such as those permanently in nursing homes. Of the rest, let’s say those between ages of fifteen to eighty, the experiences are likely at age levels.

Now what that “age levels” mean is this, at the lowest level (like nineteen), the only Dayton known is the Dayton of here and now today. It’s buildings, streets, institutions and ways of doing things that are “out there” at the moment, that’s all. At the other end of the scale, the Dayton learned was the Dayton of about 1950. While some adjustments had to be made in that if necessity demanded it, necessity never demanded changing all thought, and that’s probably for most of the people. It’s the young that know the world the way it actually is, although those a bit older have some idea and where some of it originated.

There’s a point to be made here. As yours truly has hit the three-quarter of a century mark age-wise, it is fairly safe to say, the Dayton known is gone; that city is lost in the mists of time. The “old ones,” the names in the news, of a few decades ago are dead. Many of the buildings frequented have had a change of purposes if they are still there at all. Even the bent of society (once it was a drive to win a war) has gone in different directions. So, the city is gone, except for a few scattered remnants maybe creating commentaries (if or when there is operational equipment as there is at the moment).

Probably most everyone knows that “America” is not always “safe.” Danger can be almost anywhere from an assortment of things in man made and the natural world activities. Most are known as “possibilities,” but exactly how, when and where is not known. An automobile accident is very “possible” – drunk drivers in head on crashes have killed more than one family. They might be more common at night and so forth, but the specifics are not known. Ditto with criminal actions such as a robbery. Anyone can unexpectedly walk into a place where a robbery is about to happen – it doesn’t have to be something like a bank.

Now, frequently in news headlines from around the world, especially recently as there is more news out there than ever before and the current spotlight is more on places where such things seem to be more common, it’s possible to read and hear of things like people more or less grabbed and having their heads chopped off. In spite of a day’s reports of the latest automobile accidents, assorted crime and structural failure possible, one can still pause and think“safe in America.” It is possible to think one is safe a few other places in the world as well, England being one, but somehow the United States seems especially safe.

Random gangs may wander the streets of America and carry out some identical atrocities as are reported from far away places, but it’s still “safe in America” for reasons of attitude. Americans don’t accept something like kidnapping followed by decapitation and dumping the body somewhere as behavior to be tolerated. Probably people in lands of such victimization don’t like the idea, either, but see no alternative other than to live with it as possible. Quite often Americans don’t propose to live with it, although they might take into consideration doing so for the time being because they must. (Written August 28, 2011.)

To an extent there’s a fine line difference between “what might have been” and “if only….” A very memorable story once read (author, publication and all else is forgotten, but the premise was never forgotten) was essentially a split tale. The “hero” was simply going along a road, then he came to a place where it divided into two roads going in two different directions. He chose one and proceeded to encounter various things. At the critical point (climax), the story stopped dead, and readers were abruptly returned to a moment before the place where there were two roads. The alternate way was followed with very different events.

The story was a clear example of “what might have been,” as nothing caused a choice between the two roads. It was simply a case of one had to be picked to continue, and what was along the way could not be foreseen much less judged as good or bad. A famous poem alludes to the same idea, but doesn’t really put it into story form. Objectively, there is no element of regret in “what might have been” based on the likes of poor judgment, while that is an underlying element of “if only….” (It does not really help matters much to know that one may have chosen on the basis of what seemed best, although it does help some.)

There are other aspects to the notion, which have nothing to do with choice as such. Sometimes the choice is not one of two or more things, but a choice of do or not do. That’s not the same thing. There is the aspect of wishful thinking, as well. That boils down to stuff over which someone may have no control, like the ideas of being born into a wealthy family or having a powerful position (like the boss) when nothing of the sort is the way it is and that’s way it will stay. Even the element of chance is food for “if only…”What might have been” is something unknown, and guesswork is at best purely speculative.

So, as of today, nearly two weeks of commentary is non-existent. Actually, it is in existence to an extent; some of it is all ready, waiting for working equipment, while some of it is in mind, not written down, due to unforeseen circumstances that actually date back for some time. Case in point: in April (this is August) it was thought a person gushing helpfulness would be going to the bank to get a measure of cash with which to work (like sending someone to the supermarket or drug store for stuff). It’s one of those things that fell apart and had serious repercussions ever since insofar as systems go.

So, yours truly has been sitting here still trying to figure out a way to approach things (as before). Skip the missing days? Well, it is supposed to be a diary of sorts. And, for that matter, is there an audience left? Also for that matter, the jumbled mess at hand will continue through August. Equipment repair has to go on the back burner for the moment as the management of the building has set a claim on time for a) an inspection on August 11 (extra cleaning must be done) and b) the annual review (rental amounts are for a year; depending on factors they can change and there’s paperwork involved).

The thought at this point in time (that has to be emphasized – this point in time is this minute), is to start again with this commentary, and add additional things from this day, but, insofar as possible to maybe fill in the missing days as time and circumstances permit (i.e., if time and circumstances permit). There’s always a chance someone wants to look through the old stuff. Other things sit waiting, too, started, partly done but not finished and so forth. But, there are principles involved when it comes to this tiny place in the universe, an over-riding matter being aspects of the idea have be set into motion four times already.

The current name is “National Aviation Heritage Area.” At least that is what the government (in the form of the National Park Service) put on the highway signs. The area between the signs is in the vicinity of nearly ninety miles east to west and north to south, with the north-south span being a shade longer than east to west. Ninety miles is a pretty big patch of ground, but not every inch actually falls into the “historic” classification. In fact, quite a few inches don’t. However, quite a few inches have been important places for the discovery of the secrets (if one wants to call them that) of flight ultimately leading to space.

Without at this point going into all the assorted different things that might have some place in that “historic” notion (there are other historic elements around in the area that have no relation to aviation, such as the Native American places), it’s to be said minimally that they are “many and varied.” There are also a few different arrangements of the elements, depending on the objective. The whole thing ranges from the time the Wright Brothers started thinking about flight to a lot about Neil Armstrong’s achievement. As there are museums included, there is likely to be additions at least to the museum collections.

Some of the people interested in the thing in some way, shape or form, have an objective that has yet to be achieved, namely, having at least some parts of the elements added to the United Nations (UNESCO) World Heritage List, a listing of some of the rare and/or special things of the earth that to some extent belong to all of the people of the earth. As humans proceed to other worlds out there in space, surely how and where it became active in human endeavor should be to some extent preserved for future generations. Some things are always lost along the way; but, what can be saved should be saved.